Mirror, Mirror
by CrAzYrayGIRL
Summary: Bella's fate is intertwind into anothers, as she finds it is also with the old Opera House. A ghost tale retold with a twist inside. NEW STORY! FIRST IN MONTHS!
1. Old Tale

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera, yada, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah. **

**Chapter One:**

I am haunted by a ghost, I know her name and I see her face. It is Christine who calls to me. It is she who I am descended from and it is she whose face seems to mimic mine. In all truth I seem to be her twin. My mother says its luck to look like such an angel. My Great Gram says it is fate, she is the one who tells me of Christine's story.

She was beautiful, she was daring, and her heart was filled with compassion. I was told by my mother that she fell in love with the man she had wed, my Gram sings a different tune. Her tale is full of deception, love, and cruelty. It is this tale that I am drawn to, the Phantom of the Opera.

I'm not saying its real. In truth it mustn't be, yet my Gram has never told a lie and I wonder if she started now. She says Christine wasn't in love with her soon to be husband. You could see the sadness in her eyes after they closed down the Opera House. It tore her apart, so the story says. My Gram believes she died of a broken heart. That something or someone perished in that fire that caused her grief.

It's the Phantom, my Gram cries in her sleep. It's the Phantom, she whispers to me. And on her death bed, her last breath was, it's the Phantom.

_Oh Bella don't you see it's the Phantom_

_The Phantom _

_Phantom _

_Phantom of the Opera_


	2. Gloria

Chapter Two: 

"_Watching ore the flocks by night. There were shepherds in a field, suddenly the angels sang bringing to them peace, good will_," I sing quietly. " _Hmmmm, hmmm, hmmmmmm- Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa_..."

Singing is and always shall be my greatest treasure, for it has always brought me great pleasure. It is my gift, the one that my family has shared for generations. Our voices have always been the songs of angels, or so people have said. It seems we have been blessed with a great and terrible suffering.

"Bella it won't be that bad." my father says smiling glancing back at me. I look at him, then turn back to looking out the airplane window, thinking of how close France seemed to be.

_ "Shepherds why is jubilee? Why enjoy your heavenly song... Singing Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's- Gloria inex_ _Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa…_" I whisper to myself. I feel an arm wrap around my shoulders, as I turn to look into my mother's deep brown eyes.

"Please don't be so sad. It's only a year, France is beautiful, you will see." She whispers in my ear, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes.  
"In time." I breathe.

"Oh Bella, please don't be cross." My father says smiling.

"Don't you think it's weird, coming from England and moving to France?" I ask quietly looking down at my hands.

"No child, it's only your father who comes from England, I am from France." My mother says cross.

"I know where we come from, I just think its odd." I say looking out the window again. "_Once there was a monotone angel who wanted to sing in the Christmas choir... Sitting on a cloud, he would practice trying to make his voice go higher..._"

"_Singing Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's- Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa…_" My mother sings smiling, leaning closer to me.

"You've killed it Mum." I tell her shifting in my seat as the plane touches ground onto the hard French earth.

"_Watching ore the flocks by night. There were shepherds in a field, suddenly the angels sang, bringing to them peace, good will… Hmmmm, hmmm, hmmmmmm… Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa…Shepherds why is jubilee? Why enjoy your heavenly song... Singing Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's- Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa… Once there was a monotone angel who wanted to sing in the Christmas choir... Sitting on a cloud, he would practice trying to make his voice go higher… Singing Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo-Gloria inex Chelsea's- Gloria inex Chelsea's Deo- Gloriaaa…_"


	3. Ghosts

"I am told, this chandler was held to the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera, a mystery never fully explained. My workshops have restored it, replacing the old electric lights. It is said that we frighten away the ghost when it is lit." Father says showing the new wiring. "I am going to restore the Opera House and make a fortune."

"And what of the ghost?" Mother asks by his side, looking straight up into the dazzling lights.

"A mere tale, my love, to scare children into their beds," Father answers laughing. "We shall see no ghosts."

I turned away to see a boy roughly my age dusting the stairs. He hums a tune I only know in a lullaby. I stand and stare mesmerized, I am shaking all over as I start to sing. I see only ghosts.

"_Think of me, think of me fondly, when we've said goodbye…"_ I whisper to him. He looks up, his eyes a startling green that I have never seen before.

"_Remember me once in a while please promise me you'll try…"_ He sings back to me.

_"When you find that once again you long to take your heart back and be free…"_

"_If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me..."_

"_We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea." _

"_But if you can still remember, stop and think of me." _He gets up in one swift, graceful movement.

"_Think of all the things we've shared and seen."_ I whisper stepping closer to him.

"_Don't think about the way things might have been..." _He answers stepping closer.

"_Think of me."_ I whisper.

"_Think of me waking, silent, and resigned." _He whispers back.

"_Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind." _I sing quietly.

"_Recall those days."_ He whispers.

"_Look back on all those times."_ I breathe, I'm not sure he can hear me.

"_Think of the thing's we'll never do."_ He answers just as quietly.

"_There will never be a day when I won't think of you…" _We both sing at the same time, he gently touches my cheek as if lost in a dream. His eyes haunt me; I have seen them before, but only in a dream, when my Gram used to sing me to sleep, using this very same lullaby.

_The Phantom _her voice calls out to me.

_The Phantom _his eyes are all I see.

_The Phantom _is the only thing I hear as I fall to the ground, blanketed by darkness. _Christine, you've comeback to me._


	4. Angel

_Christine, don't leave me._

I fidget. My hands are numb. I feel nothing now. Death seems to want me for it's self. I try to move. I try so hard. But life is fleeting. I shall die. I will die. Angel. My Angel. Where are you? Are you lost to me? Am I lost to you? I am nothing without your light. Guide me Angel. Guide me Angel. I am yours. Show me Light. Angel hear my cry.

_Don't leave me again. _

I hear a voice. Smooth as the wind. Surly my Angel has arrived to take me away? I am dead. I know I am. I feel it to the bone. Nothingness. Angel save me please! I beg of you. Save me. I wish to live. Angel. Angel hear my prayer. Hear me loud. Hear me. Angel you are my guide. Show me the path. I am yours. Angel make me live. Angel? Angel?

_I don't want the darkness._

It is all I see. Darkness. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to live. Angel. My Angel. You leave me to rot. You leave me to die. Angel. Oh Angel you are the death. You murder me so. You kill. You hurt. Angel! Angel feel my rage! I love you no more! Angel! You savage! You kill me! You leave me! Angel. Angel my light is gone. You will kill me?

_It is all I see._

Darkness. I cry. I know I am. My cheeks are wet. I cry. Angel. Death feeds. Angel. You have killed. Angel. Blood is on your hands. Angel. My love is not yours. Angel. My heart is not yours. Angel. My song you will never hear. Angel. You kill. Angel, see not the blood? Angel. See not my unmoving body? Angel. See not my cold face? Angel. You did this.

_Christine, comeback to me. _

I won't comeback. My hands don't move. I shall rot. I see light. So faint. So far. Living seems to hard now. It's hard. Voices come. I can hear. My Angel where have you gone? I mean not what I say. Save me love. Save my life. Angel. Angel. I am yours. Hear my song? It shall be yours. Have my heart. Have my soul. I only wish to breathe. Save me. Save me Angel of Music. Save me. I am yours. Have you truly saved me? I breathe.

_You will comeback in the end. _


	5. Voice

"You are awake?" A voice asks me.

"No." I call back, _why the bloody hell do you sound so far away?_

"You _seem_ awake." It answers, it's tone annoyed.

"And I may _seem _asleep." I tell it, seriously I am cross with it.

"Then why do you talk?" It questions.

"Then why do you ask me questions?" I counter. "Don't you know I am dying?"

"Dying? You know nothing of death."

"Do _you_ know of death?" Venom is in my voice.

"Yes." It whispers.

"How?" I ask.

"I have seen it. Have _you_?"

"No. But I am dying."

"You can't be. Your awake."

"You can die, and be awake at the same time."

"Like being asleep with your eyes open?"

'Yes." I say gently. "Why is it so dark?"

"Its light. They covered your eyes."

"Why?"

"They say your going to go blind."


	6. Blind

"Blind!" I scream. "Blind!"

"Why do you yell?" It asks.

"Because I am angry!" I shout. "You shout when you are mad! You would be mad to if you were going _blind_!"

"I am blind."

"Then how is it light outside?" I beg.

"You can feel the warmth. Can you feel it?"

"Yes."

"Can you sense the trees blowing in the wind? Can you hear how happy people are outside?"

"No, how did you see death if you are blind?"

"I'll teach you all you need to know." It whispers. " You can sense death even with out seeing it happen."

"What's your name?" I ask.

"Johnny. You?"

"You're my teacher, and you don't know my name?"

"I'm supposed to help you. Not teach you. You'll learn on your own. What's your name?"

"Isabella. Bella."

"Bella, beautiful Bella."

"How can you tell if someone is beautiful?"

"Here I'll show you."

Suddenly I feel his hands on my face. They trace my lips, the way they are shaped and are positioned on my face. His hands move to my cheeks, where he gently strokes my skin. They move to my eyebrows as he figures out the way they curve. I stand still as my heart pounds. His hands explore my hair twisting and turning strands in his fingers. I wait for his verdict.


End file.
